


emerging from charred remnants

by egare



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Salamanders make things go Boom™, Two Smart Boys in Orlais, y’all think the title’s about the boys but nope it’s about salamanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 11:49:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13589436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egare/pseuds/egare
Summary: There’s an old boy lurking in the halls of Orlais.





	emerging from charred remnants

_“One day the magic will come back. All of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part, and the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see.”_

There’s an old boy lurking the halls of Orlais.

Sandal doesn’t mind him much, as he sees the boy wandering and exploring as he pleases. Out of the corner of his eye he sometimes sees a dragon, and he gives a little ‘Hello!’ of greeting every time he wanders into Sandal’s study. The boy is surprised by the welcome, and there is a look on his face that makes the enchanter upset- he’s afraid, almost, but Sandal thinks back over everything he has done in the boy’s presence and doesn’t remember doing anything particularly frightening. Neither says anything about it, the old boy keeping his eyes on the various runes and enchantments scattered about, Sandal returning to is work. This happens a few times, as he begins to wander closer and closer to Sandal’s study with every passing day. One time, he looks over Sandal’s work while the enchanter is eating, the black- haired boy nibbling away on the offered biscuit and trying not to spill any crumbles as he studies runes and daggers. Other times he bites his bottom lip and tilts his head, and the enchanter wonders if perhaps this is it, the day the old boy will finally talk to him. But it never happens, and he leaves without giving so much as a single word.

Neither of them mention the few runes that go missing from Sandal’s desk from time to time.

Sometimes Bodahn comes in, always one to care for his son, worried about all the time Sandal spends away from others as he focuses on his work and does little else. But he tries tells his father that there’s no need to worry, that he isn’t entirely alone. Sometimes, there’s the old boy. Other times, simply a servant or two. But Sandal cannot put the complexity of his emotions and the situation into words, so he simply offers the one, hoping it is enough.

“Elves!” There are only two servants that drop food by, because the others don’t like him, but it means that he is not alone every day like his father imagines him to be. Bodahn merely laughs, nodding, and understanding what he means. Sandal gives a smile in return, because his father always tells him that you need to smile to show people you are happy, and the enchanter is very happy. His father always seems to understand him, even on days when he doesn’t quite understand himself.

The old boy continues to visit him, slowly starting to warm up, and no longer appearing frightened by Sandal’s existence.

“You enchant things to make people safe?” The old boy asks one time, and Sandal nods, confirming that he works with both runes and

“Enchantment!”

The morning after, he comes into his study, and a vest and a bracelet are resting on his table in a neat pile. He recognizes the piece of clothing as something the old boy wears, and figures the bracelet is for a friend of his.

‘When you have time -K’ is written on a note that rests at the top of the pile, and he gets to work on the bracelet first, figuring the boy wants his friend protected before he himself gets an enchantment.

The boy returns three days later, and accepts the finished products with thanks, replacing the now empty spot on Sandal’s desk with a decorated tablet that the human will never admit to owning. He doesn’t want to make the boy feel bad by admitting that- upon first glance- his gift has no magical properties. Instead, Sandal translates it and makes the proper adjustments so that it functions, before adding it to a growing stack of finished products he does not have the pockets to carry around in.

“You made it sing again.” The boy offers the day after Sandal fixes the tablet, and the enchanter realizes that the gift was not just the mistranslated sigil, but the challenge of fixing it. He smiles, and nods, answering with a quick,

“Easy-peasy.”

And the boy accepts the unspoken challenge, a smile on his face to match Sandal’s own.

One day, the Arcane Advisor pokes her head in- no, Sandal corrects himself as he looks over his shoulder; she is not stealthy in her approach. She leans against the doorway and gives two knocks, almost disappointed that it doesn’t startle the dwarf. Sandal turns and his eyes light up, because he recognizes her from many different occasions. He doesn’t know how to properly address her, how to admit that he knows her from the past, and the fact that he has met her son, and knows what she will do in the future, so he simply states-

“Dragon mom.”

and hopes that is enough. He gets a chuckle from her, and a shake of her head in amusement- she takes the statement as permission to enter, and his brows furrow as he realizes he wasn’t properly understood. She brushes him off, like the Orlesians do if they need something from him but don’t want to give him the time of day. Sandal notices the way her eyes fall to his enchantments and runes, and he shifts on his feet, a pained look crossing his face for a moment- the scary lady from his childhood had once shown interest much like Morrigan is, a different interest than how the old boy feels- but then he remembers that this is the wild witch. She doesn’t like the scary lady, just like Sandal doesn’t. It should be fine to let her look around.

“The Empress wishes for her closest advisors to be protected during the Ball, two weeks from now.” Morrigan offers as a reason to be in his study, and he turns back to her once more, bright-eyed and curious about this new project. “Can that be done, Sandal?”

Already, he is formulating what has to be done. A bracelet here that can be used to relax the tendons in a knight’s right wrist, a few drops in champagne there that will help with any common or uncommon Orlesian poisons- the ideas of runes in the soles of shoes and temporary markings in hidden skin run through his mind, and he nods, accepting the challenge.

“Enchantment!” is his response, confirmation that he will do as the Empress requests, and she gives a small exhale of laughter, nodding.

“Enchantments would be perfect. I will tell the Empress such.” Her eyes linger on a pair of gloves that Sandal belatedly remembers belongs to the old boy. He can see the way she connects what he previously said to the gloves, and she throws him a curious look, one most of his elders give him once they realize he actually does make sense to the right people. The gloves remind Sandal of another promise, another project that he told the boy he would get to work on as well. Maybe he’ll understand that the Empress’ demands will have to come first. With his mind on the old boy, Sandal remembers something he wishes to ask of Morrigan, and watches as she walks away. Too many words come to mind, questions that he wishes to ask but has little time to ask with as she gets closer and closer to the doorway-

“Bright old boy.” She pauses where she is, turning with an indescribable look on her face. Sandal doesn’t know how to continue, because the players of the Game are really bad at just showing how they feel. Smile for happy, frown for sad, clap when something really good happens- his father taught him such, Sandal doesn’t know how it can be difficult for so many people.

“If Kieran is old, what does that make me?” She ponders, and Sandal knows that this is what his father calls a joke. He smiles and claps, showing that he understands, as she gives a nod and departs.

The old boy- Kieran- comes back the day after his mother’s visit, but this time, he is less solitary. No doubt mother and son spoke, explanations and questions and answers and warnings. Sandal remembers a time when Ser Hawke had a similar conversation with Orana, and smiles, remembering how much he liked the two. The old boy comes closer to Sandal than ever before, peering over his shoulder to see what the dwarf is up to.

“Pretty tiara.” He gives as an explanation, to which Kieran nods, understanding. The two lapse into a comfortable silence, Sandal returning to his work despite the new presence that would have made anyone else uncomfortable.

“Why do you have so many salamanders?” He asks one day, peering into the jar of salamander tails on one of the desks. Sandal thinks about how he could properly explain the magical and alchemical functions of salamanders to a twelve year old and, upon deciding that it might be rather difficult for anyone except an admirer of the arts to understand, simply states,

“They make things go boom.”

It seems to please the child.

The old boy is almost a comfort sometimes, taking a seat on the only stool in the study, and simply watching him work. On days when the world is loud and Sandal only wishes to focus on his work, Kieran knows to be quiet, keeping his questions t a minimum and occasionally helping out when Sandal frustratingly admits that he can’t find “Hammer!” or “Cold!”. Other days, when the silence is too loud, he keeps a quiet roll of conversation that includes asking Sandal about his work and badgering him with the oddest of questions.

“Mother tells me that it’s rude of me to not have asked your name.” The boy offers at around midday, after Melania has dropped off two plates- two separate trips to do so, she apologized for not knowing Sandal had a guest. Melania is a nice elf, older in her years, and she doesn’t give the same looks that the other servants give him sometimes. Her nose never scrunches up, and she never narrows her eyes at him. A nice woman, Sandal repeats to himself. “You remind me of someone, but your body is different.”

Sandal knows that he says weird things sometimes. His father explained to him once before that others just can’t follow his train of thought, and for a moment, he feels like Kieran has the same problem, as he tries to understand how the conversation went from names to bodies. But he goes along, taking each sentence one at a time to not try to get lost like others do when he talks.

“Magic?” Sandal offers to continue the conversation on, to give him a chance to better explain himself. People are never patient with people like the enchanter and the old boy, but if they give them more than a few seconds to formulate a response, to put everything in order, maybe they will think the two to be less confusing than they’re always thought of. The Empress understands his way of thinking. His father does, too, but sometimes he says things that Bodahn doesn’t want to listen about, like the half-boy in his dreams or the risen wolf.

“That sounds right.”

They form a bit of silent companionship, neither of them the best of conversationalists, neither of them particularly caring to ask how the weather is (Sandal has a window) or who is wearing what to the Ball that is a week away (all dresses look the same). Kieran asks about the enchanter’s work on masks that let you see things that are far away, and in return Sandal asks about the big man and his armored not-mages who wields magic.

“Mother has it taken care of. There’s the Inquisition, too. They won’t let him do anything bad.” is his response, and Sandal nods, understanding, “These enchantments will help keep everyone safe, too.”

“Enchantment!” keeps every safe, he repeats, and Kieran repeats the word with a single nod, firm in the way it tells Sandal that he is doing good work.

Three days before Sandal is to present his finished work to the Arcane Advisor, he returns to his study to make the final adjustments, and pouts at what he sees. He’s sad, he thinks, as he runs a hand over all his destroyed work. Smashed ruins and burned items, cracked enchanted swords, everything that was once useful now reduced to rubble in his study.

He shuts himself in for the entirety of the day, going through the process of figuring out what he can salvage- and fixing those as he finds them- and what has to be completely redone. Both the old boy and his mother visit him an hour before Bodahn does, two days before he needs to present his work, and they look equally bothered by what has occurred. He realizes that his father will be upset at the state of his study, the floor not clean for his guests from where all his damaged runes lay.

“Red woman breaks things.” is his explanation, as he offers a single theory of his. Kieran nods, recognizing the benefits that Corypheus and his allies would have if the enchantments didn’t work- if the guards aren’t safe, the Empress isn’t safe. Morrigan assures him that they will find this ‘red woman’, and Kieran lets go of his mother’s hand, moving closer to look at all that he has salvaged and what he has cast aside for another day.

“The elves won’t be safe. The risen one will be here.” He presses, counting up everything that is damaged and knowing that the side project- helping keep the elves safe from the wolf- is unsalvageable.

“Kieran?” Morrigan’s voice is hesitant, and she looks between the two.

“Enchantment.” He had sent out a helmet for the one that the two are speaking of, mixed it in with the masks that were sent as a peace offering for the Inquisition. The hat is supposed to tell the elves that he isn’t one of them, despite his pointy ears and aura of intelligence. And it’s also ugly, which makes both boys laugh at the thought of him having to wear it. Refusing the gift is almost as bad in the Orlesians’ eyes as his plan is bad in the boys’. He is a bad man altogether, Sandal and Kieran agree on that, but it has been hard to get the elves to understand. Melania does, in a way, but the other servants call her mad, knocked in the head because of her age and who she works with.

“She told me to be nice to him, last night.” The old boy admits, shifting on his feet. Sandal frowns at the mention of Kieran’s grandmother, not liking her.

“Before.” They were friends before, rumored to be lovers if one believed certain historians. It was likely that the latter wasn’t the case, a rather extreme option, but Sandal was not ruling out the possibility of them being friendly with one another. Kieran nods, before returning to his mother’s side, not showing any sign of being distraught at the idea of the risen one’s power over the servants. Instead, he turns to Morrigan, gesturing with his head toward the door.

“He needs to focus, Mother.” He urges, and she gives the enchanter one last look, conflicted. If someone was willing to destroy the runes, to what extent would they be willing to harm an innocent like Sandal? “Magic will protect him.”

That seems to calm her, though Sandal can see she does not quite understand what her son means by talking about a skill the dwarf does not possess. She heads to the door and has a hand resting on the doorknob before she turns to her son, confused as to why he isn’t following her. Morrigan looks and it seems as if Kieran has forgotten to tell his friend something, as he is once more by his side. A last sentiment, as he fishes around in his pockets and hands something she can’t make out to Sandal.

“To see.” is the only explanation he gives, and when Kieran moves away, Morrigan is able to make out the general shape of a gem. But the color is indescribable, dark, with lighter tones, not quite black but not quite colorful. Sandal nods as if everything makes sense, and she supposes that to him it just might, as Kieran moves to hold on to his mother’s hand and join her in their departure.

“Bye-bye!” The enchanter calls, and Kieran waves in return, a large smile on his face to mirror the one on Sandal’s. When the door is shut, Kieran’s smile doesn’t fall, and his mother gives him an amused look, an eyebrow raised.

“And what was that all about, Kieran?” She asks, and gets a shrug in return.

“He’s smarter than other people here, mother. Smarter than you.” It isn’t an insult, but stated simply as a fact, as he releases his mother’s hand and heads off to go play with some of the children of the servants. Morrigan simply smiles and shakes her head, ready to head off and continue with her own work. Kieran stops one last time at the end of the hall, seeming to have forgotten to say something yet again, and shouts out,

“He needs more salamanders to make things go boom!”


End file.
